


A Walk in the Snow

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Christmas, Domestic, First Time, Hugging, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, curtainfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is one of my most popular stories, based on feedback on Dreamwidth and Livejournal.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Walk in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my most popular stories, based on feedback on Dreamwidth and Livejournal.

The afternoon shadows on Christmas Eve were the longest shadows of the year. Jack had verified this numerous times throughout his life. Something about the short day, the intense angle of the sun. He wasn't sure what the math would look like, but he was content in his certainty that if he asked Carter, she'd easily be able to verify it using real astronomy. The long blue shadows added their languor to the endless wait that was the chief feature of childhood Christmas Eve's -- that unbearable peaking of stretched-thin anticipation, which felt exactly the same as the hopelessness of never-arriving. Christmas seems farthest away when it's almost here, because the waiting has gone on so long.

Jack strolled through the clear, late afternoon light, letting it lull him, resting his eyes on the blue tracery of trees and chimneys on the snow. The shadows stretched down and down the long steep hill in Windsor Park, the hill where everyone always went to sled.

Jack paused on the hilltop, hands in the pockets of his parka, watching children and parents and Labrador retrievers in red bandanas hurl themselves at the slope, skidding or skimming down its well-polished surface on sleds and saucers and trashcan lids and flattened cardboard boxes, bouncing at the bottom into deep drifts in explosions of powdery shrieking. Jack smiled, and walked a little farther, and paused to watch, and walked, and smiled some more. The air was still, and the cold made him feel every tug of his cheek muscles when some dog or toddler made him grin.

There was another someone, strolling toward him along the hilltop about fifty yards away, someone not really going anywhere either, apparently, and not planning to sled. A man in a topcoat, walking with hands in pockets. The casual, unhurried, unfocused demeanor caught Jack's eye, and in the next eyeblink he realized it was Daniel. The park, as a matter of fact, was just about midway between his own house and Daniel's place downtown, which might explain why Daniel had arrived here on an afternoon stroll, but....

Jack paced closer. He was watching carefully, and caught the moment when Daniel caught sight of him and recognized him, and he marked Daniel's wince. Daniel was wrapped in a loosely-knitted white muffler, its tails hanging down over his Navy pea coat. Another six steps and Jack could see that Daniel's ears and cheeks were bright red from the cold.

"Hey," Jack said.

"Jack," Daniel said, and immediately looked away. He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, making his shoulders hunch. His exhale was a plume of white steam. Jack had said his holiday farewells to Daniel two days ago at the mountain, after their last milk run of the year, to PR3-997.

Jack said, "I thought you said you were going to Chicago for Christmas."

A sidelong glance, blue and lingering as the shadows on the snow. "Oh. Yeah. My flight leaves later tonight."

"Ah," Jack said. The lie was obvious. He had no idea why Daniel had felt compelled to tell it. But he didn't want to pick a fight. He was too happy to see the guy for that. Time with Daniel, unexpected or planned, was always a pleasure.

He sidled up to Daniel's shoulder and turned with him to look downhill at the tangled tumbles of sledding families. Jack grunted at the view, a wordless sound that meant, _Glad you're here_ and _Looks like fun_ and _I'm too old for this shit_ and _Oh, what the hell_ all packed into one big snowball, and knew that Daniel got all the shorthanded meaning. He felt Daniel's understanding smile without having to see it. They stood there for a bit, Jack just letting his quiet delight at running into Daniel soak into him, the lie about the trip notwithstanding.

Then Jack gave in to the restlessness that was equal parts kidlike enthusiasm and a Daniel-induced need to move, to act, to not just stand there. Christmasy anticipation, too, maybe. Jack glanced around. The hilltop was backed by a street; the street was backed by the rear fences of a line of houses, and an alley divided the fenceline near where they were standing. Jack homed in on a cluster of trash cans, and beside them, a big empty box with a picture of a plastic Christmas tree on it. Target acquired. Jack scrubbed his gloved hands together and strode purposely toward the trash.

It was the work of a couple of minutes to pry a few staples out of the big carton, and when he flattened it, he had a sled. He carried it back across the street. Glancing at Daniel with a grin, Jack sat down on the cardboard and dug in with his heels, then quickly folded his legs when he had some momentum.

Some things never got old.

He trudged back up to the top of the hill, enjoying that too, the pull of his leg muscles against the snow, and handed Daniel the box without a word, and then put his hands over his ears. The wind whipped up by sledding felt really cold. He should have grabbed a hat at home, but he hadn't intended to be out walking very long.

Daniel looked at him, looked down at the cardboard, looked at Jack again, and he shrugged and arranged the box and flung himself down on it on his stomach, and away he went.

The snow was all blue with the fading light, and the smaller children were trickling away for hot chocolate and early dinner, when Jack carefully leaned the cardboard against a streetlight pole, in case someone else could make use of it, and turned to Daniel, brushing snow off his elbows.

Daniel was smiling at him, and looking as if he didn't think he should be smiling, but couldn't suppress it.

"I better get back," Daniel said. "I think my ears are solid ice and it'll be dark by the time I get downtown."

"Have a safe trip tonight," Jack said, quietly.

"Thank you," Daniel said, ducking his head and turning away without another word.

Jack went home, added some sausage and bell pepper to the top of a frozen pizza, and watched old movies and drank beer until he got sleepy. Christmas morning, he lay in bed for a while, listening to the absolute stillness. No cars passing on the street, no wind blowing. Silence. It was beautiful; very like Minnesota.

He got out of bed and made a pot of coffee and stepped out on the deck to drink the second cup. It was still dead calm, like it had been the day before, and it seemed a little warmer. He didn't check the thermometer. He didn't really feel in the mood for hard data. He drank coffee and watched a pair of cardinals flit in search of berries. Then he got dressed, and put on a hat and coat and boots, and filled his plastic to-go mug, and set out walking, discovering that he was heading aimlessly, again, for the park. The neighborhood was like the inside of a snow globe before you shake it. The silence really did seem almost heavenly in its peace.

When he got to the sledding hill, Jack cocked his head to one side, because he could see that Daniel was there again too, standing by the flattened cardboard box by the light pole, all alone.

Jack walked up to him. He was sure Daniel could hear his footsteps, but Daniel didn't look at him.

"Miss your flight?" Jack said, pitching his voice as quietly as if they were in a library. He glanced down the hill. The morning sun made golden highlights on the drifts.

Daniel fumbled and mumbled something, half turned away. Jack didn't bother to listen to what he knew would be another lie.

"Come on," Jack said, a little brisker, a little louder. "Walk back with me."

Daniel frowned. "But I'm interrupting your Christmas. You don't have to--"

"There's no 'have to' here, Daniel. And I'm going to the Reynoldses at one and to Hammond's for dinner tonight. Nothing to interrupt right now."

Daniel sighed with the air of someone being put under arrest and turned to fall into step with him. The snow crunched under their boots. Daniel wasn't wearing a hat this morning either. His ears were as red as they'd been the day before.

Jack had hung a plain fir wreath on a hook on his front door, and it matched the one on the breakfront in the dining room. He liked the way the evergreen made the house smell. He had no Christmas tree, because Sara'd kept all the ornaments and he'd never bothered to buy more. Daniel walked over to the mantel without taking his coat off and began reading the fronts of the double-dozen Christmas cards that Jack had gotten in the mail and then balanced there, leaning them against the stones one by one as they arrived.

When Jack came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee for Daniel and one for himself, Daniel had taken his coat off and hung it over the armchair back. He had moved to the window and was looking out at the snow-covered yard. Jack went to the cabinet by the fireplace and got out the Bushmill's and put a slug of it in each mug. He handed Daniel his. He took a fortifying sip of his own, and knelt to rebuild the fire.

When he had a nice cheerful blaze going, he went to stand by Daniel at the window.

"Why did you lie?" Jack's question was quiet; not confrontational, and purely curious. But he felt Daniel stiffen all the same.

"About going out of town," Daniel said.

Jack nodded.

Daniel took a drink of the high-octane coffee, and a deep breath, before he answered. "Christmas means nothing to me as a religious observance, and I don't really feel the North American cultural stuff around it either, but people get so bent out of shape at the very idea that I'm not doing anything special for Christmas that I get tired of having to explain it. So I lie."

"Ah," Jack said, as noncommittally as he could make it.

Daniel glanced at him, and when he could see Jack really wasn't going to make anything of it, he went on. "Sometimes Teal'c and I get together on the religious holidays, actually."

"Little alien solidarity there."

Daniel finally smiled, and Jack was glad to see it. "Yeah. Or sometimes I work. Or sometimes I goof off, like you saw." He paused. "Christmas is just a quiet winter day to me. It's nice to see everyone else being happy, though."

Jack raised his free hand to pat Daniel on the shoulder, and without really comprehending how it happened, all of a sudden he'd stepped closer and Daniel had turned toward him and put his free arm around Jack's shoulders, and the pat-squeeze turned into a hug. A half a hug, technically, because of the two coffee mugs, but a hug it definitely was. Daniel rested his forehead against Jack's temple for a moment. He smelled of fresh cold air and coffee and warm wool.

"Thanks," Daniel said, and his sweet breath puffed against the side of Jack's face, and Jack's mug was empty so he let it dangle from his finger and brought his other arm up and hugged Daniel again, a bigger, more engulfing hug, prompting a surprised little huff.

Then he waited for Daniel to let go. Selfishly, squeezing more than his fair share of physical contact out of the moment, but hey. He could get away with it, maybe, under the circumstances, so he just went ahead and let Daniel be in charge of the politeness and personal-space meters, but Daniel didn't step away. Daniel let his mug slip precariously to the window ledge and brought his other arm up, too, and he just stayed there, resting in the hug.

Jack cleared his throat. "Thanks for what?"

"For understanding. Not making a big production out of it."

Jack wanted to say something, but he was quickly getting very distracted by the decidedly nontraditional length and closeness of the embrace, and also by Daniel's hands, which were moving gently against his back. He could feel each finger press against him through his cotton sweater. He exhaled and went with it, because it was what he wanted, what he always wanted, and just now there was no one to see, and he dropped his face against Daniel's sweater-covered shoulder.

Daniel's breathing seemed a little fast. And then, he pulled Jack closer still. Jack swallowed.

"Daniel," Jack said, tasting wool. "Is this appropriate hugging or inappropriate hugging?"

He felt Daniel's heartbeat spike. Their chests were together, but their hips were still politely apart. If you could call a tight hug, between unrelated males, that went on for over a minute, polite in any way shape or form.

"Mm," Daniel said, "I'm not sure."

"Because I can do inappropriate hugging with you, no problem. I just kind of want to know what I'm getting myself into."

"Sorry," Daniel said, and he pulled away. Taking responsibility for the inappropriate hugging. Jack put down his mug and took hold of Daniel's shoulder.

"Don't be sorry." And Jack, feeling like someone was shaking his snow globe, really hard, pulled Daniel close again and this time he let his hip nudge up against Daniel's hip and he put his face right into Daniel's neck.

He felt Daniel inhale a big hit of him, and Daniel's arms came around him again. They stood there, bodies touching all the way down to their thighs, until Jack started to get hard.

"Definitely inappropriate," Daniel said, and Jack could hear the smile in his voice and taste the whiskey on his breath, he was so close. Jack felt it, knew Daniel felt it, too -- the gathering arousal and anticipation. It felt splendid and tinsel-covered.

Finally Jack said, "Talk to me, Daniel."

"Well," Daniel said, and Jack had to close his eyes, because Daniel was petting his hair, tracing around the sharp line his barber always clipped around his ear. Daniel was running firm fingertips along there, down and back up, and pretty soon Jack was going to have to adjust his underwear. He put that off in favor of tightening his grip on Daniel's back and shoulder. Daniel was saying, "We can skip the part about explaining how we've been cautiously flirting all this time, right? When we weren't ripping each others' lungs out, I mean."

"Yeah, I'm clear on all that. We can skip that part." Jack may have made it sound more final that he intended, because Daniel shifted his feet, putting a couple of inches between them and taking his fingers from Jack's hair to rest his hands on Jack's shoulders.

Jack frowned at the loss of contact. Daniel frowned, too, and searched Jack's face. Daniel said, "It's a straightforward question, then. We don't need to talk, do we? Don't you do the buddy-fucking thing? Aren't you up for some pleasant, no-strings, physical companionship?" All Jack could see in his face was sincere puzzlement. It made Jack wince internally. Jack wondered if this was one of those ass-backward, six-chess-moves-ahead kind of assumptions that he feared Daniel was too capable of making. But they were in it now. Somehow his normal, hands-on affection with Daniel had plunged them into The Conversation. Maybe it was the feelings stirred up by the holiday, whether or not Daniel admitted that to himself. Maybe it was the break from work and from the mountain, being away from people who knew them, being quiet and alone inside the wide restfulness of deep winter, that had done it. But it was finally happening, and it had taken Jack completely by surprise. _I should be more upset about this,_ Jack thought.

"Actually, no," he said out loud. "Not with you, anyway."

Daniel looked stung. He hid it quickly. He squeezed Jack's shoulders and turned away. "Then I really do need to apologize for the inappropriate hugging."

"No, you don't."

Jack let him walk away from the windows and over to the fire. Jack took both their mugs back into the kitchen. He got out a plate and put on it some slices of the cranberry bread that Mrs. Martin from next door had brought him and put the plate in the microwave for twenty seconds and brought it out, and stood next to Daniel before the fire, shoulder to shoulder. He held the plate up and a little between them. In a minute Daniel took a slice off the plate and ate it.

His face lost its blank abstraction and his eyebrows went up.

"This is terrific; where'd you get it?" He grabbed another piece. So did Jack.

"I baked it myself. I'm a terrific housewife," Jack said, chewing.

"No, really."

"Neighbor brought it over yesterday."

Daniel took the now-empty plate and carried it up into the dining room and put it on the table. He refilled his coffee in the kitchen and came back out with the rest of the loaf of bread. Jack got the cream cheese out of the fridge, and a knife.

They sat down and spread cream cheese on the rest of the bread slices and ate the entire loaf in silence.

"I don't know what possessed me to do that," Daniel said, finally. "I'm glad you're not upset."

"It's Christmas. There's hugging," Jack offered, and finished his last swallow of coffee. There was more in the pot. He'd get up and get some in a second, but he wanted to hear where Daniel was going with this.

Daniel laughed, a short bark. He paused, looking into his empty cup. He picked the last crumbs from the plate and poked them into his mouth. He said, "I think maybe I'm more lonely about this holiday thing than I realized."

Jack had the sensation of holding his breath, although he wasn't holding it. He was breathing just fine. "I think maybe you're right." He slowly brought his hand up and put it on the table, palm up. Daniel looked at it for a minute and cautiously put his hand over Jack's.

Daniel said, "Inappropriate touching okay, but not buddy fucking?"

God, they were having it. They were having The Conversation. Jack had never imagined it happening quite like this. "Daniel, I don't want or need buddy fucking from you. I couldn't keep it at that level. It would eventually break my heart."

"But..."

Jack waited. Daniel would probably get it. He was a smart guy. But he might not. Jack might have to explain. Which he could do.

But he didn't have to. Because Daniel got it. The smile that broke on his face when he did was as bright and intense as winter sun. He stifled it, or tried to, and then he looked away. "You can't be serious. How could you...?" His hand tightened on Jack's.

"Think about it. You know me by now. I'm just not interested in buddy fucking. I could get interested in getting married again, to the right person. But not buddy fucking."

"But..." He looked Jack in the eye. He looked cautious.

"Or dating. Dating is good."

Daniel's expression had gotten soft and sweet. It made Jack's heart melt, too. "Actually dating really sucks, in my experience. But what you're saying is, you don't do casual sex."

"Not any more."

"I see." Daniel looked down at their hands, as if surprised at what he saw there. He carefully took his hand away, squeezing Jack's first, and gathered the empty plates and cups and the knives and took them into the kitchen. He refilled both their coffee mugs while he was in there.

He said, his voice sailing through the open door, "The whiskey kind of clashes with the cranberries in the bread, doesn't it?"

"Bite your tongue, young man. Irish whiskey goes with everything. It's a food group." Jack got up and went into the living room to get the bottle.

Daniel walked down the living room stairs, coming toward him carefully, because of the coffee he had in both hands, and held the cups out for Jack to add a little whiskey to each. His voice was very soft when he spoke. "What you're proposing will change everything."

"You started it." Jack put away the Bushmill's and took his mug. "And I don't believe I used the word 'proposing.'" He couldn't quite stop his smile, which ruined the joke.

Daniel turned away to move to the window and gaze out at the snow again, sipping his coffee. "You did use the word 'marriage.' "

"Yes, I did, didn't I."

There was a pause. Daniel sipped his coffee and looked out the window. Jack watched him, feely oddly calm.

"You know how risky having a relationship would be, for us. Mostly for you." Daniel sounded vaguely puzzled.

"Oh, yeah, and buddy fucking's not risky at all. No one would ever find out about that."

Daniel made that head tilt that meant acquiescence and 'yeah, maybe so.' He said, as if to himself, "One inappropriate hug and your entire life gets turned upside down."

"Business as usual, huh?"

Daniel turned to him then, and the bright delight was back in his face, though he didn't actually smile. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

Jack went warm all over. He made himself stand very still. "Merry Christmas, Daniel. So, this can be our new very own holiday cultural tradition. Cranberry bread and inappropriate hugging on Christmas morning. So, great, you don't have to lie about going out of town any more. You have a thing to do, on Christmas."

Daniel's eyes lit with mischief. "As long as your neighbor cooperates with the baking every year. So, how old is she anyway? I mean, how many more years can we count on her holding up her end?"

"I told you, I'm a terrific housewife. If Mrs. Martin falls down on the job of providing cranberry bread for our Christmas ritual, I'll be there to back her up."

Daniel got serious again. "You're talking about retiring, aren't you. With all this housewife blather."

"Third time's the charm."

Daniel put his cup on the window sill. Jack did too.

Daniel said, "Can we try that inappropriate hugging again?"

"I don't see why not. It's part of the ritual, after all."

"The ritual," Daniel said, as if turning the word over on his tongue, trying to understand it.

Jack said, patient, deadpan, "The new Christmas ritual we just put together. I like it. I think it's gonna work for me."

Their arms came up and around, a slide of warmth and rumpling sweaters. Jack turned his head so that Daniel's cheek was against his mouth, but he didn't kiss. He just stood there. He had to close his eyes against the push of emotion he felt. Daniel was hugging him back, but he seemed stiff. Worried.

Jack said, "Shh. Relax." He felt Daniel's hand creep up his spine and come to rest at the back of his head. He pulled Daniel closer, bringing their bellies together. It was warm and merry and bright.

Jack continued, "It's okay. Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

Daniel chuckled. Jack kept his eyes shut. He felt Daniel relax into the hug. Touch and warmth and the smell of pine and woodsmoke. Bread and fruit and coffee. Pure celebration.

They stood there for a while. Then Daniel inhaled and stepped back and took Jack by the shoulders and, bracing there, said, "I'm going to take a long leisurely walk in the snow now, and you're going to celebrate with Colonel Reynolds and his family, and I imagine we both have a lot to think about."

Jack said quietly, with less urgency than he felt, "Come back tonight. I should get home from Hammond's about eight." He started to bring his hand up, wondering if the timing might be all wrong, given Daniel's stiffness of a moment ago, but he wanted to do it very much, so he gently put his finger on the corner of Daniel's smile, traced along his lip, and then let his hand drop. He watched Daniel lick his lips, and then he tore his gaze away from Daniel's mouth and met his eyes again.

"Tonight," Daniel said.

"I might have a present for you," Jack joked, making Daniel laugh again, but the flirting had ignited something in Daniel's eyes along with the laughter.

"You really want to..." and Daniel glanced away, searching for words, and glanced back. "Do this. Here. Tonight."

"There's no place like--"

And Daniel started laughing again. "I'm going. You have somewhere to be pretty soon and maybe you don't have anything to think about; maybe you thought about it all already, but God. I do."

He began to bustle, finding his coat, slapping his gloves together. Jack followed him to the door. Daniel was abstractedly talking about snow boots or something, tread patterns, saying goodbye and thanking Jack for the coffee in the middle of whatever it was he was babbling about. Jack wasn't listening. When Daniel had his hand on the knob, Jack put his hand on Daniel's arm and made him turn.

What Jack saw in his eyes resembled nothing so much as fear, but Jack leaned in anyway. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to Daniel's. Daniel made a shocked noise, but he kissed him back, a gentle, soft warmth.

Jack made himself lean back right away.

"See you tonight," he said, and then he opened the door for Daniel, and let him leave.

^^^^

Jack figured it was even odds that Daniel would decide unilaterally that them getting together was just way too risky, way too outside the box, too dangerous to the team dynamic, too much a flouting of the chain of command, the DADT rules, everything. Jack expected Daniel was fully capable of deciding to leave it at one kiss, the acknowledgement of their attraction, and perhaps a voicemail, begging off coming over. Jack was braced for that.

But as he was sitting in the living room, drinking Irish coffee and watching the fire, he heard the swish of tires pulling up to the house, heard a motor cutting off, and in a moment, the knock at the door.

He concentrated on breathing normally as he set down his coffee mug and went up the stairs to the entry.

"Hey," he said, and Daniel said, "Hey," as he came through, brushing past Jack and into the living area. Jack watched his back as he started to take off his muffler and coat.

"Did you have dinner," Jack said, walking toward him. His steps felt careful, as if the floor wasn't quite solid.

"Yes, I had plenty of that takeout left from Sunday," Daniel said, sounding abstracted.

"Because nothing's open on Christmas," Jack said, and he knew it was a silly thing to say, stating the obvious, but all his attention was taken up by noticing Daniel, his presence, the fog on his glasses, the same sweater from the morning. Daniel was now taking off the fogged-up glasses and folding them and putting them on top of his coat, and he stepped toward Jack and met his eyes.

He didn't say anything, but all the way in, he watched Jack as he came closer, then very close, way inside the normal polite personal distance bubble, and put his arms around Jack and drew him in. Watched him, the lack of glasses making his face seem oddly naked, until they were too close to focus. Too close, because they were kissing again.

Daniel started carefully, but he abandoned that, or had to abandon it, right away. Jack held him tight and kissed him back, and it was an intoxication, a release as sharp as relief, as overwhelmingly real as the end of pain, to feel Daniel's warm strong body against his, to dive into that wet, responsive mouth.

Jack freed a hand and put it against Daniel's face, touching as he kissed, and Daniel moaned.

"Do you have -- any idea," Daniel said, between kisses, "how long I've been wanting this? -- And how hard I've tried -- to stop?"

"Yes," Jack said, because he wanted to hear it, hear it all, in Daniel's words, what he could imagine and what he couldn't, but he didn't want to hear it just now. The couch was pretty close by, so he kind of steered them over to it and they sat down, not very gracefully, still kissing. It was kind of a jumble. Jack found Daniel's mouth again as soon as he could, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. He'd watched Daniel's mouth for years as Daniel talked, laughed, frowned, yelled, ate. As he sucked on pens in briefings and gave Jack unmanageable hard-ons, making Jack fiddle and doodle and seek out file folders and coffee stirrers to distract himself with. Now Jack was getting the chance to feel that mouth, taste it. It was soft and mobile and muscular and deep and Jack couldn't get enough of it.

He became aware of Daniel's hand on his shoulder, and of his own palm, which had found its way up under the back of Daniel's sweater. Daniel was panting and slowing the kissing and pushing a little with that hand on Jack's shoulder, trying to ease Jack back. Jack wasn't really ready to quit kissing Daniel just yet, but he was willing to change the pacing if Daniel needed to.

Daniel adjusted the way he was sitting, turning to the side a little, but holding Jack close as he did it. His hands explored as he talked, and Jack, hopeful, not thinking too hard, reached around and pulled his own shirttail free from his jeans while he listened, and then soaked up the roaming exploration of Daniel's hands.

"I just... you have to understand, I never really thought this would be an option. I've ruled it out for so long I think I'm having a little trouble believing it could happen. That it is happening."

Jack leaned back, but he didn't let go. "What else do you need to hear, Daniel? To believe it?"

"I don't know. I just..." It was like he couldn't believe Jack would actually answer questions if he asked them.

Jack took a deep breath. It wasn't that hard to say, really, when you got right down to it. Most of his reticence had come from his niggling suspicion that Daniel was straight, and also the chain of command issues. But right now? It wasn't hard. "I'm in love with you, Daniel. I want to do this. I'm willing to retire, if it comes to that. And if it does come to that, you can keep working; maybe Carter'll get her shot to lead the team, Teal'c'll be there to back you up, and you can come home, here, every night."

"God, Jack," Daniel said. He had gone very still, his hands tight on Jack's shoulders. "You really are serious."

Jack tilted his head, gave a "what can I tell you" shrug. And that made Daniel smile.

Daniel blurted, "Are we going to bed now? Are you honestly ready for that? Because--"

Jack laughed and leaned in and nuzzled Daniel's cheek again. He was looking very disheveled and confused. Jack was definitely ready and he was pretty sure Daniel was. Daniel was just overthinking. As per usual. "Let's see.... assessing readiness level," Jack murmured, and he let his hand skim down to Daniel's hip and over to the bulge in his jeans, and Daniel chuckled, but he got very still again. Jack was poised to stop if Daniel wanted him to -- he had no idea, really, what was going through Daniel's brain or what exactly was hanging him up, making him fumble in such disbelief, though he could come up with a few theories about Daniel's psychology if he had to. But he could definitely feel that Daniel was still hard, and Jack kept his arm around Daniel's shoulder and leaned his head against Daniel's head and palmed his dick through his jeans. It made Daniel groan aloud and melt under Jack's arm. Jack put his mouth to Daniel's neck, feeling his own dick jump in his pants at the reaction his touches were getting.

Daniel was moaning, and pulling at him, and fumbling for Jack's zipper, and when he couldn't immediately get at it, he abandoned that idea and started to unfasten his own pants.

"Wait," he said suddenly, very clearly, and stilling his hands and sitting up straight. So Jack waited, his hands at his own fly. "I don't want to do this on the sofa. I want to go to bed."

Jack smiled and stood up and Daniel took his hand and took off for the bedroom. Still talking.

"I'm just wondering; I have to wonder, not about the physical readiness, clearly I want this so much, you want it; I knew that, I'm flattered and turned on and amazed and you must know all that. I'm just wondering about the thing with men, the homosexuality or bisexuality thing, about what experience you have, what experience you're expecting me to have, what you want to do, all that, and at the same time I'm castigating myself for thinking too much and trying to realize that it will be fine to just let it unfold and that I don't have to know all that up front, that we can really do this, we can work it out, like we eventually work out everything."

"Even your inner lectures about overthinking are overthinking."

And Daniel was laughing again. By the middle of his monologue, they'd arrived at Jack's bed. Daniel stood there, babbling, in the warm lamplight, through that explanation, and let Jack undress him. And as Daniel talked, his eyes kept getting wider, and he clearly was having a hard time staying in the moment, even as fantastic as the moment was, and Jack found he wasn't fazed by that at all, or even surprised by it.

He listened, and focused on taking Daniel's jeans down -- Daniel had kicked his shoes off sometime during the couch kissing, and Jack hadn't had any on in the first place -- and so, since he was right there, he got hold of the waistband of Daniel's undershorts too, and as he pulled both garments down he went ahead and put his mouth on Daniel's dick when it bounced free, easing it into his mouth as he pushed the denim down as far as he could, to bunch around Daniel's calves.

"Oh, Christ," Daniel said, and he started to teeter.

"Sit," Jack said, and waited only long enough for Daniel's ass to land on the bed before he started blowing him again.

It felt fantastic, as fantastic as the kissing had. It had been a long long time since Jack had done this, but he found it was something you really didn't forget how to manage.

As he explored the contours, gently, with his tongue, experimenting with suction, listening vaguely for Daniel's pleased, astonished noises, feeling the gentle strokes of Daniel's hands in his hair, he was opening his pants one handed and touching himself as well.

"Oh my god," Daniel said.

"You can move, it's okay," Jack pulled off long enough to say.

And Daniel did; he started making gorgeous small thrusts with his hips, sitting there on the bedspread, gently fucking Jack's mouth. Jack squeezed the head of his own dick, completely overwhelmed by what he was feeling, lost in it, ready to bring Daniel off just like this, and come all over the rug and the side of the bed, himself.

Daniel. It was Daniel, under his hands.

Daniel. Clothes half off, in Jack's bed. Right now.

"Oh, my god, Jack," Daniel said again, and his hands tightened on Jack's head and he was pushing Jack away, for real. Jack didn't want to go, but the waistband of his jeans was digging into his ass and the zipper was about to do injury to some fairly tender skin, so he paused for a minute. He just held onto himself, softly, feeling the throb of his pulse in his erection, letting Daniel's warm shaft nestle in his other palm, and he licked his lips and rested his forehead on Daniel's knee.

"I think... we should..." and Daniel was easing away from him. Jack looked up. Daniel, intent and flushed, was taking off his clothes. He stripped his sweater over his head, the T-shirt coming right up with it, and tossed them past Jack. Then he leaned back against the headboard and hitched up his knees and shoved his jeans to the floor. The view of the swell and pull of the muscles in his ass and thigh made Jack swallow. Still holding his own dick, he reached out and ran his fingertips along the muscle, and Daniel froze, his knees up. Jack took his hand away and Daniel reversed his motion, kicking his legs out to rock forward and lean to Jack and kiss him while he tugged at Jack's shoulder. Jack stood, and Daniel leaned back on his elbows -- _naked in Jack's bed, astonishing_ \-- and watched as Jack pushed down his own jeans and quickly stripped out of his sweater.

Daniel opened his legs, an invitation if Jack had ever seen one, and Jack got a knee on the bed and lowered himself onto Daniel's body, lining up their dicks. It was almost too much. The shock of hot skin almost made him shoot right there. Daniel's hands ran down his back, and hesitated a second before continuing, smoothing over Jack's butt, and then pulling.

Jack groaned and started moving his hips, unable to stop himself, and Daniel answered him with gentle, perfectly timed pushes.

"What do you want?" Daniel whispered, turning his head, and he kissed Jack's ear and then his tongue came out and touched the shell. "Just tell me what you want, what you do."

Jack groaned, actual words deserting him in a red flood of new arousal. He pressed against Daniel, full length, and made himself stop moving his hips. He thought about coming, and then right away tried to think about not coming. It had been a long time, and, of course, never with Daniel. _God,_ he thought.

Daniel kept pressing their groins together, but stopped rocking his hips. He kissed Jack's temple, and moved his mouth around to kiss all the area he could readily reach.

"That did not feel like the first blow job you ever gave," he said, his voice a sexy murmur.

Jack found he had some brain cells to spare now that Daniel had stopped moving his hips. He got his elbows to bend and he heaved up to kiss Daniel's mouth. Thoroughly. Enthusiastically. Daniel kissed him back. Daniel ran his tongue across Jack's. They both moaned. Jack couldn't help smiling at the sounds they were making, even though it broke the kiss. Daniel began lightly scratching up his back, and Jack had to squeeze his eyes shut at the intense ribbons of pleasure.

"Oh, you know," he said, against Daniel's cheek. "It's like riding a bicycle."

"God, Jack. I just... tell me what you want."

"I've got what I want Daniel. I've got you in bed, naked. It really doesn't get any better than this." Daniel laughed again, a spontaneous sound of pure happiness, and it made Jack feel even warmer. Jack raised himself and cupped the side of Daniel's face and looked him in the eye. Daniel had asked him a question. "It's been probably twenty years since I had sex with a guy, all right? Mr. Obsessed With Details?" But Jack was smiling, taking all the sting out of the words. "I did a lot of stuff back then. Not everything there is to do, but a lot. So don't worry. I'm going to like whatever you like."

Daniel was listening intently, really giving a vivid picture of the concept of what it meant to have someone hanging on your every word, and then he licked his lips. "This is overwhelming," Daniel said.

"Yeah, isn't it?" Jack grinned, and started kissing him again. The moment of talking had ramped his rush to orgasm back down. Daniel had had it right: Plenty of time to explore, to figure it out. Now that they'd made it here. Now that they were comfortably horizontal. Do it it bed, do it right. Whatever it turned out to be.

Jack gently, slowly, kissed Daniel's mouth, signaling, he hoped, the slowing of the pace, and then he began, inch by gorgeous silken inch, to work his way down Daniel's body. He kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, kissed the hollow of his throat, a place that, in his experience, was almost always a hot spot for people of either sex, and he was rewarded by Daniel's writhe and the sudden eruption of goosebumps. Jack smiled against skin and kept going.

"What about you? What do you do? What do you like?" Jack tossed out the questions, and kept kissing and nuzzling, deciding it would be fun to see if Daniel could take the intimate attention and still answer. Because he figured Daniel would be compelled to answer.

"Oh, God. Anything. Your mouth is... it's almost too much. Oh, God, Jack..."

Jack had reached Daniel's nipples, and at the changed, raw rumble in Daniel's voice, he gathered that that might be a good place to stay for awhile. He bit gently, and sucked, and reached up with his left hand and pinched softly at the other one. Daniel bucked, and his erection under Jack's belly got noticeably harder.

"I've found something you want," Jack said thoughtfully, and he sucked harder, and pinched harder, twisting a little, and pressed down with his lower body, and Daniel cried out and came, arching against Jack's stomach, the warm liquid gushing in fast hard spurts.

Jack eased his touches, grinning in spite of himself and so giving up on sucking to use his tongue, touching all around the nipple, and at the same time switching to rubbing gently at the other one. Daniel's amazed groans gradually subsided into gasps, and his hands began to pet Jack's shoulderblades instead of twitching helplessly, skittering across the skin.

"Oh, fuck," Daniel said. "Oh, Christ."

Jack stopped rubbing and licking, flattening a palm against Daniel's nipple and getting back up on one elbow to press a soft kiss to Daniel's panting mouth. Daniel lifted his head to look at him.

"I didn't say it," he gasped.

"What?" Jack said, caught in a hot glow that was equal parts intense arousal and possessive triumph. "What?" He was genuinely confused. What had he missed?

"I love you too, Jack," Daniel said, and put a hand to Jack's hair, his head falling back on the pillow. "I love you too. God, so much. So much."

Jack smiled, and turned his head and rested it on Daniel's chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. Somehow he was totally unconcerned about his own climax, massively turned on though he was. Everything would be taken care of in due time, he was certain. He shifted, enjoying the splintering pleasure of pressing his erection against Daniel's thigh, sliding his abs through Daniel's warm come. He found a nice niche for his dick and simply waited for Daniel to come down. He knew Daniel loved him. It was amazing to hear it, but he realized he had known already. Maybe known all along. Jack closed his eyes. He hadn't been exaggerating at all when he had said earlier that he had everything he wanted and that this was as good as it got. His skin felt full.

Daniel's heart hadn't slowed very much when he said, "What I'm going to do, is turn over. I'm not at all prepared for you to enter me, and I don't know if you do that or if you want to do that or if you have any lubrication closer than the kitchen, but I want you to get on top of me. Put your dick against my ass. That's what I want to feel. I can feel it already, as a matter of fact."

"God, Daniel," Jack said, as the words sank into him, his eyes getting wide, his dick getting harder. He raised up, as if he were doing a pushup, and Daniel didn't even look at him. His eyes were closed and he flipped himself underneath Jack, and Jack pulled himself up and then he was rubbing his erection against Daniel's ass. Daniel made an untranslatable noise, a gorgeous pleading sound, and pressed up.

"God," Jack said, again, and he looked, drinking in the firm curve of Daniel's glutes, and he reached, pulling a little at one cheek, enough to get himself seated.

"Lie down on me," Daniel choked out. "God, Jack, just do it."

Jack groaned, and did. His dick was held tightly, in the heated damp of Daniel's muscular ass, and Daniel clenched on him, and Jack groaned and moved. He didn't raise up again, he brought his hands in close, found Daniel's shoulders, and he rolled his hips and pressed in, and they found a rhythm right away.

Daniel growled, "God, I want you to come on me, right there, right there."

"Daniel!" Jack said, and it was as if he was following orders, because he was coming -- the tightness and the pressure and the movement and the heat pushing him right to the brink. He pressed his face into Daniel's neck and jerked and bucked, pressing down, coming into the crack of Daniel's ass.

"Mmm," Daniel said, after a minute. Jack was still panting. He felt Daniel turn his head further, getting more room for his words. "I don't want you to get up. You're not too heavy. I love this."

"Mm," Jack said, and he dozed off, must have, because he wasn't aware of dozing but he was very aware of waking, because he'd slid a little to the side, and his leg and arm were still over Daniel's back and leg, and he was eye to eye with all that blue. Daniel was smiling.

"Hey," he said, and pressed in and kissed Jack, only half on his mouth.

"Mmph," Jack said. He raised his eyebrows. He couldn't stop staring. He'd never seen or imagined anything more beautiful than sleepy Christmas Daniel. In his bed.

"I don't want you to retire. Okay?"

Jack frowned and tried to move, tried to listen. It was hard.

"I want to do this, but I want to try to keep the team together too. I know it might be violating your ethics; we can talk about that, we can talk about all of it. But I think your retiring should be Plan B. We have a lot to do out there, Jack, you know that. I want to keep doing it. With you. That's selfish, I know, but that's what I want."

Jack was able to shift enough, pushing through the amazing glorious post-orgasmic, dreams-come-true lethargy, to get his shoulder up and his mouth free. He pulled in his hand from Daniel's back to rest it on Daniel's head.

"Plan A it is," he said. His voice was sleep-rough. He inhaled, deeply, catching the sharp scent of their come and their sweat, and behind it, a hint of pine. Pine was the scent of the season, full of memories and warmth. It was Christmas night. The waiting was over. Christmas had happened, eve and morning and day, and the blue of Daniel's eyes in the lamplight was deeper and more enduring than those afternoon shadows on the snow, Christmas Eve shadows that seemed to last forever.

Jack smiled, and said, "Plan A is always my favorite anyway," and then Daniel leaned in and kissed him again, and then they both went to sleep.

end


End file.
